


Blizzard

by seashrine



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: First Time, Hand Jobs, Heavy Petting, M/M, Porn with Feelings, it's not relevant to the story i just wanted y'all to know, post-BL3, trans mordecai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 11:35:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20947673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seashrine/pseuds/seashrine
Summary: Pandora is hit by a freak snowstorm. Brick and Mordecai find themselves trapped in it.





	Blizzard

**Author's Note:**

> haven't written porn in a hot second... please enjoy what i affectionately call "the cave fic"
> 
> thanks to @debilitas, my fellow intellectual, for endless advice and editing tips

“It’s a supply run, Brick, not a damn vacation! You almost ready?”

Mordecai stands by the technical, hands on his hip and staring impatiently as the larger man zips up his bag. A few days ago, Lilith had requested that they make a trip to Roland’s Rest to trade supplies with the settlement. Though Brick’s gardening skills were slowly improving, the citizens of Roland’s Rest had been much more successful in cultivating a variety of crops in the past few months. In exchange, the B-Team offered various weapons and traps to keep marauding bandits far away, or dead. It was a fair trade and a good excuse to visit friends who had settled down in the little village after all the Calypso bullshit.

“Alright, good to go!” Brick shouts and bounces towards the truck.

Mordecai nods curtly and heaves his supply pack into the back of the vehicle.

_"OOF!"_

A pair of bunny ears slowly peek out from the truck bed.

“Tina, for the last time, we need you to keep an eye on The Fortress,” Mordecai scolds and pulls Tina up by the collar.

“Boom Town,” Tina scowls and mutters under her breath. Nearly five months they’ve lived there, and they still can’t settle on a name. _Or I’m just old, stubborn and mean,_ Mordecai thinks.

“Whatever you wanna call it, it probably won’t _be_ here if we leave it unattended. So stay put.”

“Oh, come ON!” The girl throws a desperate look in Brick’s direction. “Brick, my sweet boy, puh-_lease_ convince mean ol’ Mordy to let me go with y’all. I’ll be _ever_ so good.” She locks her fingers together in a pleading gesture and flutters her eyelashes.

The classic conundrum: side with Tina or Mordy? Brick seems ready to concede but glances at Mordecai, and the man’s stern face changes his answer.

“Mordy’s right,” Brick says in his most serious tone, crossing his arms for emphasis. “You like Boom Town, right? Protect it.”

Tina scrunches up her face, then finally jumps out of the technical with a grunt. A moment later, she reaches back in and snatches up a bomb as a consolation prize.

“We’ll be back by sundown,” Mordecai calls after her as she stalks off, grumbling under her breath the whole way. “We’ll bring you back a present if you’re good.”

Without looking back, Tina ducks into her workshop and slams the garage door down.

“She’ll get over it,” Brick shrugs and clambers into the gunner’s seat of the vehicle. “Let’s go!”

A shiver runs through Mordecai as he reaches for the door. The feeling of cool wind on his bare arms is so unfamiliar, he actually stops in place. He looks to the sky and sees it dusted with heavy gray clouds. Pandora is always hot, unbearably hot. The nights get cold, sure… but it’s late morning. Will it rain? That would make the first time in months. Mordecai hopes they won’t get caught in a downpour with the weapons uncovered in the back. Those things would rust out quick.

He gives it no more thought and takes his spot in the driver’s seat, peeling out of the garage and down the dirt road.

Brick likes to drive, but Mordecai likes to feel like the car won’t go careening off into a ditch, so he stays up front despite Brick’s pleas throughout the journey. The sky has started to swirl with dark clouds, and it makes Mordecai’s stomach churn. His gut tells him to turn back, despite knowing he’d be ridiculed for being scared of a little rain. But you only live this long on Pandora if you have a survival instinct. For Mordecai, it manifests as a fairly constant state of anxiety. It’s tough to live with, tougher than he’d like to admit, but it’s saved his ass more times than he could count. In this case, he swallows it down and focuses on the road.

“C’mon, Mordy, let me drive,” Brick shouts through the rush of wind as they go over a bump and catch air.

“We’d be in a ditch if you were driving,” Mordecai says with a laugh. “No thanks.”

“That was _one_ time! Pleeeeease?”

Mordecai turns in his seat to shoot a glare at Brick, which shuts him up quick. When he turns back to the road, it takes a few seconds to actually register what he’s seeing. It surprises him so completely he lets the car roll to a stop without thinking.

“What the hell?” Brick says, utterly dumbfounded. “Is that…?”

Mordecai shivers involuntarily.

It’s snowing.

Brick stares at the sky, enraptured by the flakes falling around them. “I didn’t know it snows here. I know we haven’t been here long, but…”

Mordecai hasn’t seen snow in many, many years. He had grown accustomed to the boiling desert of Pandora, then the sweltering humidity of Eden 6, then back to unbearable dryness. A constant trickle of sweat down his neck, the stifling heat under his mask. It was uncomfortable, but it was predictable.

Brick is climbing out of the technical before Mordecai can get a word out. The big man whoops with glee, throwing up handfuls of snow and holding his tongue out expectantly. Something in Mordecai twinges and he rips his eyes away. Feelings are rattling around in his chest, feelings he doesn’t want to acknowledge, _can’t_ acknowledge, because acknowledging it will make it real.

It registers that the landscape is quickly changing. The wind is picking up, and there is already enough snow on the ground that Brick’s boots sink into it. It seems impossible considering they only parked a few minutes ago. Mordecai whips around and realizes the mountains they descended from are gone, shrouded by a white haze. The wind threatens to rip the bandana off his neck, and a foreboding feeling creeps up his spine.

“Brick, we oughta get going,” Mordecai says as the other man packs a snowball in his palms. “Don’t even think about throwing that.”

A mischievous smile pulls at the corner of Brick’s lips. In one motion, he throws a curveball right into Mordecai’s chest that knocks the air out of him and makes him stumble back.

“You bastard!” Mordecai can’t help the laugh that bubbles up. When he reaches down to retaliate, a gust of wind shoves him so hard he drops to his knees. It’s picking up faster, carrying blinding flurries of snow with it. Mordecai isn’t sure how it happened so quickly, but now all he can see is Brick and the technical. No mountains or hills. Not even further than a few car-lengths down the road.

The anxiety in Mordecai’s stomach threatens to jump out of his throat. Those rusty survival gears in the back of his mind start turning on instinct. He grabs his and Brick’s bags from the back, then takes the keys from the ignition. Brick is approaching, his previously joyful face now contorted with concern. Mordecai hands him his pack with a shiver.

“I can’t d-drive in this,” Mordecai shouts to be heard over the wind. “Car won’t start. We’d crash anyway.”

Brick nods. “What do we do?”

Mordecai is trying to think, but his teeth are chattering so hard it hurts. He weighs a hundred pounds soaking wet, as Tina is fond of saying, and he isn’t even close to dressed for this. It feels like the cold is seeping into his brain, freezing the machinery and slowing the gears.

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

There is a hand on his shoulder, and then Brick is leading him away from the technical. A few moments later, the vehicle is gone from view and the world goes white. Mordecai lets Brick stand in front of him and bear the brunt of the harsh wind; he just shuffles along behind, forehead pressed to Brick’s back. The tip of his nose and his ears go numb quickly, but he forces himself to put one foot in front of the other. One step at a time.

It is difficult to gauge the passage of time, wandering in what seems like an endless white space. After an indeterminate number of minutes, Mordecai misses a step and falls to his knees in the ankle-deep snow. His mind is as empty as the landscape around them, just vaguely cognizant of Brick’s form in front of him. Massive arms scooping him up, cradling him against a warm, broad chest.

The next thing Mordecai feels is the frigid ground against his back. He skirts in and out of consciousness, listening to Brick’s worried mutterings. A slow and constant dripping from somewhere nearby, and pacing footsteps echoing. Mordecai tries to speak, but a whine comes out instead.

“You don’t look so hot,” Brick says, standing above him. Mordecai shudders and curls tighter into the fetal position. Aware enough to feel pathetic, but too cold to really care.

It’s the acrid smell of smoke that rouses him. When he forces his eyes open, he is greeted by the sight of Brick kneeling over a small pile of kindling, a box of matches in his hand. The pile doesn’t burn, just smolders and sputters out.

Mordecai groans and sits up against the cold stone wall of the cave Brick has brought them to. Only about ten feet across, with the ceiling just as low, if Mordecai had to guess. The cave isn’t too deep, so they have pressed themselves against the back wall to get as far from the storm as possible. It’s dark, cold, and damp.

“Help me out, would ya?” Brick tilts his head in Mordecai’s direction. He looks away sheepishly and hands over the matches. Several of them litter the ground around him, all splintered in half.

Normally he’d snap back with a snarky comment, but Mordecai doesn’t have the energy. He takes a match in his slender fingers, then lights and holds it into the pile. Some torn-up magazine pages and dry grass from the sparse patches in the cave. Wouldn’t make the strongest fire, but it would do for now.

“How the hell’d you get us here?” Mordecai asks as he blows soft breaths into the flames. “Dumb luck?”

  
Brick shrugs and pulls his bag in front of him. “Just kept walking ‘til I found the wall. Walked some more ‘til I found a cave big enough to fit in. Sorry it ain’t nicer.”

Mordecai laughs at the sheer luck of their survival and wraps his arms around his knees. After rummaging around in his pack, Brick emerges disappointed, sitting back on his haunches. Mordecai gives him an inquisitive look.

“Sometimes I keep a bedroll in there. Thought you could use it.”

The smaller man sighs and holds his hands to the fire’s weak heat. “I think I got a blanket in mine. Maybe.”

Sure enough, Brick pulls out a small faded blue bundle and tosses it over to Mordecai, who immediately wraps himself up. It’s a thin and tattered old thing that had been buried at the bottom of the bag for quite some time. The smell of the thing, a faint floral perfume, sends Mordecai reeling with memories he had nearly forgotten. By the way Brick scrunches up his nose, he notices it, too, but says nothing. For a few minutes, they rest in silence. Mordecai tries his best to huddle into the blanket, despite its unpleasant associations, but it does little to keep him warm. The blizzard’s howls echo through the cave, and water slowly drips from the ceiling into a growing puddle in the corner.

“How long do you think it’s gonna last?” Brick speaks up. He’s been doing pushups, nearly fifty by Mordecai’s count.

“What, the snowstorm? I got no clue, man. I never seen anything like that.” Mordecai rubs the back of his neck. “Weather on Pandora is crazy. I hope it’s like the thunderstorms and moves on quick.”

“Poor Tina and Talon, stuck up in Boom Town.”

Mordecai chuckles and strips off his gloves to dry by the fire. He had kept them on for warmth, but soaked as they are, they’re doing him no good.

“They’re tough girls, I’m sure they’re alright. Better off than us, at least. Two old ass men, stranded in a freezing little cave.”

On cue, Mordecai shivers. His instinct tells him to keep close to the heat, but if he gets any closer, he’ll be sitting in it. Brick, meanwhile, reclines against the cave wall, cracking his knuckles.

“Man, how are you not cold right now?”

“Dunno. I’m a big guy. Hot-blooded.” Brick cracks a grin. “You’re skinny, you got no meat on you.”

“Thanks, Brick. You sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself.”

“Hey, I didn’t say it’s bad. You’re real good-lookin’.” Mordecai shivers, not entirely from the cold. Brick is unbearably oblivious. How can he can say things like that and not realize the implications? He’s not the most socially adept guy, but even _he_ has to know how those kinds of things sound.

Brick watches him for a minute, like he’s considering something, then pats the ground between his pulled-up legs. “C’mere.”

Mordecai freezes for a few seconds before scrambling over to Brick’s side of the fire. He makes himself do it, before his brain has a chance to object. He drops and seats himself between Brick’s legs facing out, staring into the fire and willing his heart to stop pounding in his throat. Their knees are touching, and it’s all Mordecai can focus on. Finding pants that fit has always been a challenge for Brick, and most pairs err on the side of too tight. Muscular thighs straining against dark denim. Mordecai’s head is swimming like he’s had too much to drink.

Brick shakes out the old blanket and swings it over his broad shoulders, then leans forward and presses his barrel chest against Mordecai’s back. It’s an unbearably, embarrassingly good feeling. The smaller man starts to fidget but two arms wrap around his torso. Mordecai’s frame isn’t much to hold onto, and Brick’s grasp envelops him. His stupid, traitorous heart hammers against his chest and he’s sure Brick can feel it. Maybe he hears Mordecai’s breath hitch when he feels Brick’s weight against him.

“Won’t be cold for long now,” Brick announces with confidence. “You’ll warm right up.”

_You got that right,_ Mordecai thinks, not sure if he’s more embarrassed or excited. Human touch comes few and far between on Pandora. The last person to lay hands on him had to have been Moxxi, all those years ago. That must be why his body itches to be roamed over, electricity arcing up his back where Brick leans. Touch starvation. Has to be it.

Brick must be touch-starved too, judging by the way his grip drops to Mordecai’s waist and holds tight. It reminds Mordecai of puzzle pieces, the way their bodies slot together with no space in between. Chest against back, head against shoulder. Slow breaths warm the crook of his neck and Mordecai shivers. Maybe misunderstanding, Brick manhandles Mordecai into a new position: chest-to-chest, legs crossed behind the man’s back.

Mordecai buries his face in his neck and takes in the familiar Brick smell: sweat, campfire, old leather. He can already feel his heart rate slowing to match that steady thrumming beat. Slowly, he allows his hands slide up as much of Brick’s back as he can, mapping every curve and dip. The larger man lets out a long, low hum and relaxes deeper into the embrace. It makes the corner of Mordecai’s mouth twitch. He’s got big, tough Brick purring in his ear.

It only registers then that Brick has started to slump against the wall, legs pulled up so Mordecai is practically sitting in his lap. He can feel his bony ass digging into Brick’s thighs, but the larger man hasn’t thrown him off. The realization hits him like a tire iron but he still doesn’t pull away, _why can’t I pull away?_

“Never seen you this relaxed.” Low words Mordecai can feel rumble in Brick’s throat, and his chest tightens. “It’s nice, huh?”

Mordecai nods silently. When Brick adjusts his posture, Mordecai can feel him move against his ass and wonders if it’s accidental. Wonders what to do next. Experimentally, purposefully, he presses his weight down onto Brick’s lap. He’s met with a shift upwards, hesitant and almost subtle enough to be ignored. When Mordecai grinds down with a little more force, the larger man sighs and rolls his hips to match the pressure.

Something has shifted, the balance tipped in his favor. Mordecai doesn’t allow himself to think. He lets himself fall into this new role as the initiator, the lead in the dance. All he can hear is his own hammering heartbeat and Brick’s heavy breath in his ear. Each second is a step forward towards something they can never come back from.

“This good?” he murmurs against Brick’s jaw. Several nods and a soft “mmhm” in response. The stubble scratching Mordecai’s cheek burns but his body won’t let him pull away, not now that it’s had a taste. He ghosts his lips over the skin of Brick’s neck, and to his surprise, goosebumps rise up where he touches. Mordecai sits up with smug satisfaction, ready to tease Brick for his sensitivity. Ready, at least, until two big hands grab both sides of his face and pull him into a rough kiss.

Bliss sweeps over him like a wave. Desperate need comes shortly after, burning white-hot behind Mordecai’s eyes. His last kiss had been chaste, sweet-tasting and soft but lacking any real feeling. This is different. Rough lips crashing together, making up with passion for what they lack in technique. Floodgates finally broken open and everything pouring out. Touching, touching everywhere they can reach. Mordecai slips his hands under Brick’s tank-top and feels the man gasp against his mouth. There’s no restraint now, just a push and pull as the men try to get as much of each other as they can. Brick is fumbling with the clasps at the back of Mordecai’s head, and after a few attempts, he pulls the mask away and tosses it out of reach. Mordecai stiffens on instinct as his face is exposed. He only takes it off to sleep. All day, his face is inscrutable, eyes unreadable. The way he prefers it, to be unknown by the world. Then they both hear the roar of the storm, and know this time is theirs alone. Brick kisses along Mordecai’s jaw up to his ear to loosen him up, and it works. He melts into Brick’s arms with a faint groan. The kisses fall below his ear, on the worn lines around his lips and near his eyes, trace the awkward tan-lines curving across his cheeks. He lets Brick lavish him with affection before he guides him back to his mouth for a long, appreciative kiss.

It’s not long before the tempo of the dance picks up again. Brick is pawing at Mordecai’s waist, big hands exploring with clumsy excitement. Breaking apart for the first time in minutes, Mordecai shifts to straddle a leg and positions a knee against Brick’s groin.

“Slow down there, _amigo_.” A chuckle rumbles low in his throat. “There’s no rush.”

Brick almost whimpers, squirming under the smaller man. That pulls a real laugh out of Mordecai.

“Something the matter?”

Brick shakes his head a little too quickly, and Mordecai feels his fists ball up in the back of his shirt. He leans forward a bit so his knee makes contact, and Brick exhales hard.

“Look at you, all worked up. Big guy like you still gets pushed around easy, huh?”

Mordecai waits for the response. It takes a few seconds, but Brick nods, twice. His face and ears are burning bright red.

“You like me being in charge?” Mordecai drops his tone, suddenly a few octaves lower. He grinds his knee down and Brick throws his head back with a whine.

“Mordy, _please_.” His voice quivers as he rocks his hips up against the pressure. The friction must be so good, scratchy fabric on sensitive skin, but not good enough.

“Tell me what you need.” Making Brick use his words at a time like this was almost cruel. He tries to squirm into a better position but Mordecai pushes his knee in firmly, refusing to give Brick any relief. “Tell me, Brick.”

The last three words are soft around the edges. Not a demand, but an invitation.

After a few deep breaths, Brick’s face loses a bit of its color, but he still can’t look directly at Mordecai. The smaller man gives him an encouraging squeeze on the thigh.

“Touch me.” Brick’s voice is husky with need, and he swallows hard after speaks. “Please.”

Mordecai sits back on his heels between Brick’s legs with a smirk. He would prefer to straddle him, but he knows Brick is probably too big for him to get his legs around. That concept twinges in his gut, and he fumbles with Brick’s belt all the more quickly. Brick pulls him in for another sloppy kiss, hands eager to roam down his chest and torso. The touches feel like static shocks all along his sides, and Mordecai can’t help but give in. Broad, callused hands slide under his loose shirt, rubbing circles on his pronounced hip bones. When those hands start unlatching his belt, Mordecai finally pushes them away, down to Brick’s sides.

“Nuh-uh.” He finishes the job he started and unzips Brick’s jeans. “You first.”

When he pulls the pants down to Brick’s thighs, Mordecai is a little surprised to find him straining against his underwear, a wet spot blooming where his dick leaks precum.

“All that from a little kissing?” Mordecai traces a finger along Brick’s outline. The larger man squirms and balls his fists, unsure what to do with his hands but seemingly happy with the touch. He looks at Mordecai through half-lidded eyes, his whiny breaths hanging in the icy air.

Mordecai sits a little wider and yanks the underwear down to Brick’s thighs. Exposed to the cold, Brick yelps. His dick is nearly fully hard and twinges every couple seconds, begging for any kind of touch or relief. Mordecai doesn’t think this is the first time he’s seen it in the years they’ve known each other. There had to have been times while they traveled together, when Brick was changing or taking a leak, that he accidentally caught a glimpse and quickly turned away. Nothing like this, knowing Brick is in this condition this all because of him. _A guy could get drunk off the power._

Remembering the past gets Mordecai thinking. He spits into his hand, which isn’t entirely necessary with the state Brick is in, and cups it around his dick, pumping it slow and purposeful. Brick is already losing his grip, whimpering and squirming under Mordecai’s touch with heavy breaths. The cave is filled with soft, wet sounds and the wind from the storm outside, punctuating with Brick’s low groans.

“How long have you liked me?” Mordecai interrupts casually, as if he isn’t jacking Brick off.

Brick’s hips buck and he digs his fingers into his thighs. “Lo-Long time. _Fuck_.”

“How long’s a long time? We talkin’ back in Sanctuary?”

Brick doesn’t respond, too occupied with rutting into Mordecai’s hand. The other man grabs his chin and forces him to look up. The eye contact and tight pressure forces a moan from Brick’s lips.

“Earlier than that,” Brick huffs, one of his hands creeping up Mordecai’s thigh. “Since the beginning… thought I was being obvious.”

Mordecai’s heart drops into his stomach. He really has underestimated Brick. He, like everyone else, has thought of Brick as oblivious, loud, crude. Obviously Mordecai knows there’s more to him than that, they’ve been friends for nearly a decade, but damn, he really has been blind. Brick had been flirting all along? Trying to impress him?

He strokes Brick’s cock with long, languid motions as Brick pants, “Thought you was cute the second you got on the bus.”

_Cute?_ Mordecai hasn’t been called that in years. Maybe once or twice by Moxxi, sneering and condescending. The way Brick says it, all that sincerity in his voice, makes Mordecai’s heart jump into his throat. With new eagerness, he flicks his wrist up and down Brick’s whole length, coaxing moans and desperate pleas from the larger man.

“Mordy, please,” Brick whimpers, “I need- _shit,_ Mordy, I’m-” He throws his head back against the wall and moves to the rhythm Mordecai sets, clasping a big hand on the man’s shoulder. As he edges closer, the thrusts get more reckless and hurried, and Mordecai picks up the pace. The noises coming out of Brick’s mouth make his ears burn red, all moans and deep panting, nothing held back.

“Yeah, there you go,” Mordecai leans against Brick’s chest and murmurs encouragement against his neck. He breaks up the words with soft kisses on his square jaw, sliding his free hand up his thigh. “That’s it, Brick… that’s a good boy.”

And then Brick’s legs are shaking as he comes into Mordecai’s hand, digging his fingers into his shoulder and crying Mordy’s name over and over. He slumps back weakly, eyes shut for a few moments, and Mordecai almost wonders if he passed out.

“You okay?” Mordecai squeezes Brick’s thigh, still shaking. Brick keeps his eyes shut but nods. Without warning, Mordecai is pulled in by the collar for a slow, appreciative kiss.

“Agh, Brick, you’re gonna make a mess.” Their bodies were almost pressed together, and Mordecai’s hand is still wrapped around Brick’s cock. Wordlessly, Brick unties the bandana around his leg and wipes them both as clean as he can manage, then tosses the thing into the smoldering fire.

“For real, you okay?” Mordecai gives Brick a concerned look, furrowing his brows. “Wasn’t your first time, was it?”

He means it as a joke, and he isn’t expecting Brick to blush as hard as he does.

“Oh, you… shit, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

As Brick buttons his pants up, Mordecai sidles himself against into Brick and looks up. Embarrassment and shame are clearly painted across his face.

“Brick, it’s okay. Look at me.” He holds the side of Brick’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “It’s okay. I just wish I coulda made it special for your first time, is all.” Mordecai’s face twists up with a grin. “This ain’t exactly the most romantic place.”

“It’s good ‘cause you’re here.” Brick tries to say the words quietly, but quiet has never been his forte. When Mordecai starts to plaster his face in kisses, he can’t keep the smile off his face.

“Mordy,” Brick whines when his mouth is free, “I gotta… return the favor…”

Mordecai plants a kiss on the scar above Brick’s lip. “I’ll take you up on that later.” Then on the lips, warm and familiar, like it’s what he was meant to be doing all this time. When he pulls away and pauses, he listens.

“For now,” Mordecai says as Brick runs his fingers through his dreads, “I think we gotta get back to our girls.”

The sounds of the storm have abated, just a gentle wind whistling through the cave. Snow, though plentiful on the ground, has stopped falling.

“We gotta lot to talk about when we get home.” Mordecai pecks Brick’s cheek and stands up, stretching out his stiff legs.

Brick groans and pulls a startled Mordecai into his lap by the belt loops. “Just a few more minutes here? Please?”

He rolls his eyes, but Mordecai can’t keep the smile off his lips. “Fine. A few more minutes.”

Curling up against Brick’s chest, he lets his heart rate match Brick’s steady, comforting pace, and he feels at home.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on twitter if you wanna see my dumb video game ramblings @transmordecai


End file.
